[ASTRID REESE]
London, England

★ ★ ★

Astrid Reese did not mean it when she said she would be the one to test the cake flavours for Jennifer and David, yet somehow, she ended up in the big girl chair, staring at twelve different slices of cake.

All before she had the chance to eat breakfast. Although, this was more her fault than anyone else's so she couldn't blame the couple for this one particular thing.

Everything started off well. Red velvet cake. It happened to be Astrid's favourite so she couldn't complain. In fact, she rather enjoyed replacing her usual overnight Weetabix for breakfast with the fluffiest, most melt-in-your-mouth slice of red velvet cake.

And then, to clear the plate: a slice of Luscious Lemon. Tasty and absolutely refreshing. It worked perfectly as a palette cleanser. Overwhelming her completely came the hazelnut almond cake—filled with dark chocolate ganache, mocha buttercream and raspberry preserves.

Coffee and cream.

Caramelised vanilla.

Key Lime.

Blueberry and coconut.

Honey-soaked cardamom and plums.

Ginger spice.

Banana Foster.

Lemon-thyme.

Toffee Temptation.

By the time all twelve cakes were missing a bite—she used a fork for each—Astrid felt like she could pop at any second. She imagined she looked much like Harry Potter's aunt, the one the young wizard blew up until the woman flew away.

Jennifer's awaiting eyes made Astrid jump. Such intense eyes. Expectant, too. Like the young wedding planner had all the answers in the world. Something about it felt incredibly familiar. "So?" Jennifer asked in the end. The corners of her lips perked upwards. Blush toned skin turned white around her nails as she grasped onto her fiancé's hand.

"I'm biased because my favourite is red velvet," she said, keeping herself honest as always. The couple shared a look which told her enough about their distaste for that cake flavour as an option. "I think the caramelised vanilla or coffee and cream would pair perfectly with the overall theme of the wedding reception. Aesthetically, it would fit incredibly well."

The comment made the couple try the two mentioned cake flavours. Oh. She saw why they had her feel sick at nine in the morning. They wanted her to go through them all so they could only try what they wanted to be final.

Words were exchanged as well as glances.

"We'll do both," David confirmed, a smile appearing on his lips to show enthusiasm. Breaking the moment had to be the loud ringing of his phone until he excused himself, leaving the room to Jennifer and Astrid.

The woman didn't waste a breath before she asked if Astrid was holding up okay. When she said everything was fine, the woman sighed and looked at her as a mother would scold their child when they caught them lying. For some reason, those intense eyes sent a shiver down Astrid's spine, the awareness of her gaze leaving Reese feel placed on the spot.

Jennifer pulled the plate with the red velvet cake on it across the table. It screeched against the polished surface and Astrid cringed, biting down on her molars, as the sound went through her.

"I don't mean to press on personal matters, but I am concerned when it comes to our work here," she stated, sounding confident and absolutely serious. The edge of her sharp words poked at Astrid's mind, the inviting feeling beginning to take over her ability to control her mouth. "You seem as if you haven't slept in the last twenty-four hours. Is everything truly okay at home?"

Rather than giving an answer, the wedding planner went for the red velvet cake. Soft as butter. Fluffy as a cloud. The perfect sweetness met with the slightest bit of saltiness. If Astrid ever craved a slice of red velvet, she'd know where to go after this. Perhaps not the best for her bank account and overall look, but extremely positive for the company she worked with.

For reasons Astrid couldn't understand, she felt inclined to tell the truth. To lay her problems before her client. Extremely unprofessional, yes. But also extremely needed. Or rather, she extremely needed to find a therapist instead of using her client as one.

Because she started talking before she could've stopped herself.

"I was at the hospital with my best friend—her daughter had to be taken in," she shared, swallowing a sip of water she requested on the side. All that cake tasting left her mouth extremely dry and teeth coated in pure sugar.

"Oh, my—is she alright?"

"Yes," Astrid cleared her throat, then sniffled and sat back against the chair.

"That explains your sunken face," the woman commented, as unnecessary as Astrid's decision to confide in her. "Take no offence, dear, but you need some rest. If you would've told us that something had come up, we would've been able to reschedule."

Astrid hadn't thought that far ahead. Not to mention, it was unlikely that her contact for the cakes would've been available at a later date. The slot she managed to squeeze in for this morning only came about because they received a cancellation, and Astrid was one of their most trusted therefore she got the first call.

"That's okay," she smiled. "I am here mentally. I might seem a little out of it, but don't let that sway you, please."

"Very well, dear," Jennifer replied. "I thought I would check in. One can never know."

Something shifted in Astrid's chest as she let the words process in her mind. It was so rare to find people genuinely concerned if they weren't acquainted. So when she smiled again, she did so with relief sagging her shoulders.

"Thank you, Jennifer. I appreciate that."

"Oh," she swayed her hand in the air, a soft flick of her wrist, as if she wanted to convey it was nothing. "I feel as though I've chewed your ear plenty through the course of our working relationship. This is the least I can do—the least any person should do."

Perhaps. Astrid shrugged. "Nevertheless, I meant what I said."

"So, tell me, then," she continued, maybe feeling like they were on a roll and sharing all things personal would be how they'd go on from now. If this succeeded or failed on Astrid, it would one hundred percent be the latter. Number one rule of life—never befriend your clients to the point where they know the time of your birth. "How's life treating you? I know you work so hard, it must be nice to go home to a nice man at the end of the day."

Astrid chuckled. Wow. Such a strong expectation but certainly one that made sense coming from Jennifer. If anyone, it had to be her who blurted it out, cutting through all the professional barriers between them like they were nothing more than spider webs and her words the dust brush.

"I wouldn't say that," Astrid responded. Then quickly added, "I mean, I do work hard. But I wouldn't say I'm romantically involved—definitely not to the extent where I have someone waiting for me at home."

Jennifer pouted, and pity filled her eyes. "Oh, dear," she sighed, running a hand down Astrid's arm. For a second, Astrid thought the woman would stand to her feet and walk over to hug her, which would've caught her off guard, even though she'd have expected it. Thankfully, Jennifer stayed where she was. "It is hard, isn't it?" she wondered. "Dating... I can only imagine how difficult it is these days."

"Mhm."

"Finding David..." she smiled fondly as if she thought back to her memories of meeting the man. Something lit up her face so completely that Astrid felt like a whole different person sat to her left. Whenever Jennifer talked about her soon to be husband, or anything to do with the man in general, she switched to a version of herself that screamed how in love and content and happy she was. That sort of love, that sort of fullness, that sort of... rightness almost terrified Astrid.

Could she ever find what Jennifer and David had?

Could she ever find anything of what her other clients had?

Did she want to find something like that? Because that question seemed to solidify her for a moment. Her heart stopped for a beat, and her mouth dried up like she ate a handful of sand.

To promise herself away for the rest of her life was the type of commitment she thought was possible when she started dating Derek Molyneux. At that time, when she felt herself falling in love, and felt herself being loved by someone, she imagined things would only ever end one way.

Married.

Married to Derek.

But of course, life had a strange way of waking people up.

"...there is always that chance, you know?" Jennifer continued to speak like she must've been going on, and on, and on, for the last five minutes. Along the way, the slice of red velvet cake disappeared into Astrid's stomach. She hummed, while her client said, "After Richard, everything felt dull and unsure. Life lost its meaning, in a way. But then I met David—David is the best thing that's ever happened to me. Other than my children. I adore my children, but I do have to be honest, I haven't always been the best mother."

"I'm sure you tried your best, Jennifer," Astrid reassured her. But she did not care. This was not in her job description. Counselling her clients. Nope. For one, she did not have the qualification to be sitting there, listening to the private life of a woman she wouldn't ever see again after this wedding.

Well, not unless she chooses to get married for a third time.

Then again, Astrid used Jennifer to vent not even ten minutes ago. Did she truly have the right to complain? 

Jennifer waved Astrid off. "I told myself that same excuse. I told myself I tried my best and everything else was out of my control, and somewhere along the way, I stopped trying. I no longer speak to any of my children, and that's my fault."

"I'm sorry, Jennifer," she said, and she meant it. Perhaps in the strangest way, she could understand the woman. Astrid had never understood how to keep relationships alive, unless there was some necessity in the connection. "Have you tried rekindling your relationship with them?"

"A couple of times," the woman nodded, the light in her eyes, in her face, the happiness keeping her body upright and straight, dulling with every second. "They have always been much more fond of their father. That's not something I can blame them for, or feel I have to compete against. I definitely dug myself a hole, in a sense. I suppose I get to lie in it now."

Unsure of what to say next, the moment was saved by David's return. The curl of his lips reached the corners of his eyes that he kept on his fiancée. Seeing the bond between them made something tighten in Astrid's chest. The slightest twinge of jealousy burned through her for a moment. It was there then gone.

Rubbing at her chest before she pushed the plate forward, she rose from her seat. Looking for her contact and unable to find the woman, she cleared her throat and refocused her attention on the couple, letting them know that once they have everything confirmed, they are done for the day. And for one, Astrid couldn't wait.

★ ★ ★

The apartment was quiet when Astrid got home after work. Darkness welcomed her. Coldness. The radiators haven't been on for hours, and the crisp night air seeped in through the kitchen window that Sofia must've left open. It surely wasn't Astrid because the moment she got home from the hospital, she fell into bed. The following morning—today, basically—she didn't even bother to eat breakfast because she had to rush to the meeting with her clients.

So, coming home to the emptiness, the coldness, the darkness, it all made her want to curl up in bed and cry for a while.

Life's been taking a toll on her. As much as she liked to believe things were under control, it wasn't truly that way. Faking things until they become the new norm can be easy, and Astrid was definitely a pro at it. She had plenty of time to get accustomed to putting one foot in front of the other, going through the motions as they came, and hoping for the best in the end.

Sometimes, it caught up to her.

Like tonight.

She slammed the kitchen window in and for a second, she wondered if the glass would shatter. It did not. If it did, she would've jumped right out. Sighing, she kicked her shoes off and threw her bag onto the kitchen island. Absolutely no energy left, stomach growling, heading pounding, she pulled the fridge door open. The bright white light lit up the kitchen, and bare shelves stared back at her.

Eggs. Butter. Cucumber. Jam—orange, because Sofia only liked orange but then she never ate it and it always went mouldy. Astrid took it out then grimaced and gagged at the sight of the greenish spots then threw it in the bin. Gone off ham followed the jar. While she was cleaning the fridge, she opened up the soy milk—still good—the cow's milk—down the drain—and the almond milk—also down the drain—then shut the door.

Scrambled eggs didn't tickle her fancy. Fried eggs also didn't make her want to jump around the apartment. Snacking on cucumber was an option—and she did end up peeling the whole thing, cutting it into four long strips, then in half, sprinkled with salt and Japanese four seasoning she got from the store and never went back from it since—until she came up with a different solution.

The headache didn't want to ease. She already took some head pills, even though she preferred waiting out the pain. Knowing that nothing on this earth would ease her misery, she went for a shower and didn't even bother moisturising after. Not tonight, she thought to herself while she pulled on her pyjamas and got in bed.

So, she tossed and she turned. She tossed and she turned.

20:37 turned into 21:59 which quickly became 22:45.

Today 22:47

How's everything? Is Ayla ok?

Sofia Jameson reacted: [👍🏼]

A's been asleep most of the day

She's still very weak and looks so out of it

Terrified to give her anything other than the plainest foods

Cam's been awake and at her every call so I could get a couple of hours of sleep in but it's been hell

Sweet girl :(

Let me know if there's anything any of you need please

Sofia Jameson reacted: [♥️]

What are you doing still awake? Don't you have work in the morning?

Can't sleep

Like I'm exhausted but I can't fall asleep

I'm only going into the office tomorrow so I might scratch that and work from home

Alright love

Ayla is up I have to go but text me if you need anything

You reacted: [♥️]

At least there was that. At least Ayla was ok and Astrid could stop worrying about the little girl. She's been on Astrid's mind for hours on end today, and she almost went over to Cameron's place to check on her. The only thing that kept her back was work, and the space she felt the family needed. No matter how much she thought of herself as a part of that—she'd never truly understand their connection, nor would she fit in, and that was fine.

Sighing, Astrid rolled onto her back and pushed a pillow against the wall, sitting up higher. She ended up scrolling through her phone for a good hour before she received a text from Harry.

Today 00:05

Hi, Astrid. Is there any chance you are awake?

You're probably asleep already...

If I called you now, you'd probably murder me on sight the next time we see each other, wouldn't you?

I see the little bubble in the corner—why are you awake?

Yes, I will murder you on sight if you call me at this time of a night

Lovely to know.

How about FaceTime?

How is that any better than a phone call?

Harry Styles reacted: [👍🏼]

Bad call, sorry.

I have a story to tell you, please can I call you for five minutes?

Can't promise I'll be listening properly

Harry Styles reacted: [HAHA]

But go on then

Harry Styles reacted: [👍🏼]

The little thumbs up icon barely came up on Astrid's screen before the incoming phone call blared through the room. Right away, she silenced the device then accepted the call and put it on loud speaker.

"Hiya," she mumbled, putting the phone on the pillow beside her. Once on her side and comfortable, she cuddled one of her stuffed animals to her chest, then put the other one between her thighs so they didn't stick together.

"Are you alright?" he asked before greeting her, sounding a little bit concerned. She imagined he was concerned because his voice dropped lower—or was he tired? Either seemed accurate.

"Exhausted."

Harry hummed, or sighed, perhaps a mixture of both. "I hear you."

"Why the call?" she asked. Truth be told, she grew curious after his text and now that he held off on talking, she wanted to hurry the conversation along. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?" 

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" 

Astrid snorted. "Fair enough." 

Harry hummed. "I'm just on my way home. Thought I'd text you before I set off. Then you replied, so I called. I wanted to see how you were holding up."

"Mhm."

"And ask how Ayla was getting on," he added. "She hasn't been admitted since she left, so I'd assume she is better?"

"Yes," she said.

Harry waited. "That's it?"

"Yes."

He chuckled. He must've also realised that she wouldn't be able to get much more out. While she was wide awake, she was still exhausted and talking required effort and energy she lacked.

"Okay," he exhaled. "I'm glad to hear she is okay. I was a little concerned. I also raised the issue about the doctor she was assigned so the board is aware."

"You mentioned already," she reminded him. Harry had gone ahead and flagged the situation with his superiors on the day—night, to be specific—of the incident to make sure it wouldn't go unnoticed. Some parts of Astrid believed he awaited something like this to happen to give him a cause to proceed with whatever else he had on the surgeon.

But she couldn't blame him. Not when she was aware of just how close they had been to Ayla going untreated because the doctor couldn't be bothered to show up. Because he never did.

"Just want to make sure that you know," he said gently.

"I do."

A little hum sounded from his end of the phone. Astrid wondered if he felt as tired as she did. Admittedly, they both had the longest day and night.

"So... you are okay, right?" he asked again, voice unsure. "Nothing's happened..."

"Hmmm, not that I'm aware of, no," Astrid replied, a little confused as to why he needed so much reassurance about her wellbeing. Granted, they shared a moment of panic when it came to Ayla, and he may have thought it affected Astrid deeply—which it did—and now... well, was he going to treat her like she could break at any given second?

"Okay, because," he stopped and chuckled, the sound light and breathy. "Well, I was called down to examine a patient today, and her name happened to be yours."

"Huh?"

"The patient's name was Astrid Rees. The surname wasn't the same spelling. Yours has an 'e' on the end, right?"

"Mhm."

"Hers didn't but—," he caught himself. Exhaled. Inhaled. Then said, "I nearly tripped over my own feet."

Silence buzzed between them while Astrid processed what he actually meant. How the coincidence left him unbalanced and eventually reaching out to her to put his mind at ease by checking in on her. Something about the relief that she now noticed in his words, in the sigh that escaped his lips, warmed her chest.

That shocked her.

Obviously, she felt attracted to Harry. Easy on the eyes. Talented with those lips. But to have a feeling spread through her that came from something other than her sexual attraction towards him felt shocking.

It had never been a part of the plan, and while it wasn't engraved in stone, Astrid wasn't entirely too sure she enjoyed such changes to what she deemed to be straight forward.

"Well," she said in the end, breathing in deeply as she propped her elbow up and leaned her head into her palm. "I am more than okay. Nothing has happened to me today."

"Good," he blurted. "Good. I am glad to hear that."

"I did almost die of all the sugar I digested this morning but other than that, everything's been swell."

"Oh?" he chuckled. "What did you do this morning?"

The interest in his tone made her lips quirk up, the smile irresistible to fight. With a sigh, she said, "I had a cake testing appointment with my clients. They thought it best if I try all twelve flavours of cake they had on the table so I can give them the most appropriate for the wedding."

"Oh, Christ," he laughed, finding true entertainment in Astrid's pain. "What did they go for in the end?"

"Caramelised vanilla and coffee and cream. They're doing two flavours, yeah."

Harry hummed and mumbled some sort of response. He then asked about the other flavours, and which one was Astrid's favourite. When she told him it was red velvet, he sounded surprised and said that he would've thought strawberry.

They went back and forth for a short while, talking about nonsense that they could've most definitely gone without. Astrid for sure. Throughout the conversation, she felt herself dozing off. Unless Harry directly said her name—which he did, with a little added pressure as if he knew he was the only thing keeping her awake—she was humming and mumbling while already half asleep.

"I'm resting my eyes," she'd said when Harry asked if she wanted to put the phone down. "I'm listening. I can multitask."

He promised, "I'm sure you can, but don't push yourself for my sake."

"Gotta make sure you get home safe," she muttered, completely out of it by that point. Somehow, Harry managed to find himself in traffic, at one in the morning. "I'll be working from home tomorrow—today. In a matter of hours. Whatever."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm."

"I'll bring you breakfast, then."

"You don't have to do that."

"I want to do that," he countered. No room for an argument. Not that Astrid could've managed. So when she whispered a little, "Okay," not a moment later, Harry echoed her, "Okay."

"I only drink iced coffee."

Once again, he chuckled. "I know."

"Oh..." she breathed, and quieted down. So much so that the only thing she could hear was the sound of the wind from Harry's end. "How?"

"I tried to bring you coffee when you were staying over at the hospital. You asked if there was going to be ice. I said no and you said you'd rather die of thirst."

"Accurate."

Harry laughed. "So much cold isn't good for your teeth."

"Are you a teeth surgeon?"

"Dentist," he said. "They're called dentists, beautiful."

"Whatever—are you?"

"No."

"So, stick to your specialty," she teased him, smiling before she yawned, her eyes watering up in the process.

"Yes, Boss," he responded, the playful tone apparent even through her dreamy haze. "Hey, Astrid?"

"Yes?"

"Put the phone down, and get some rest."

"I'm fine."

"You're practically snoring down the phone, honey. Go to sleep, okay?"

Honey. Beautiful.

Who did he think he was, calling her all these endearing names? And who did she think she was, swooning over it like a fool? This was not her plan. Not her plan at all.

"One, I don't snore," she fought, barely there yet everywhere. Harry hummed, like he entertained the conversation for her sake and it made her press harder. "I do not. And two, I said I can't sleep."

"Okay," he exhaled. "Let's stay on the phone until I get home. Then you go to sleep, alright?"

"Yes, alright," she agreed but little did she know that she'd fall asleep way before he could've gotten home.

★ ★ ★

[A.N.]

[HAPPY FRIDAY.] 

[We're back to HarryAstrid being the cutest Ever. I love their immediate connection - even if Miss Reese only wants him for revenge. Let's not peel that apart yet though. I can't defend her actions and plans.]

[We also have some news on Ayla being ok and Sof and Cam playing house for her well being <3 I definitely need more of them! Hoping and praying for a cute little family soon!] 

[As for Astrid's clients... they really made her eat cake for breakfast, and ruined her entire appetite because they only wanted to try the final options. That may or may not be something I'd do. Let's also not peel that apart rn.] 

[Anyway - I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I shall (hopefully) see you next week!]

[With love, B.]